by Robin Bootle
‘You’d be a fool to forget,’ she said, still unable to look him in the eye. ‘What happens if the mist comes again?’
In that case, you’d better not be anywhere near me, was the answer that popped without hesitation into his head. Not just for his sake, but for hers. If it came again, they should all be as far away from each other as possible. Tie themselves to distant trees and wail in hateful solitude until it subsided.
It was torturous not being able to get Elizabeth alone. She’d lied to him again by not telling him Vanderboom could enter Extropia. But this time, whether it was the state of her frail mind or the simple fact that she’d sacrificed everything to be here, he wasn’t mad at her. All he wanted was to know what she knew about Vanderboom. But that would involve talking about VirtuaCorp, about the NCCU and other things from a world Ivandell couldn’t see. It would leave him confused and afraid.
His stomach grumbled again, angrily, painfully. They hadn’t eaten well for almost a full day. He pulled out his flask and took a swig, anything to distract his aching belly even for a second. He looked at his wrists, and wondered if the bones were already more visible than two days before. He imagined himself in his port next to James, the two brothers slowly becoming more and more alike in their ghostly appearance.
Just twenty yards off, the trees came to an end. There, bright sunshine reflected off white sand, making him squint. He stumbled towards it, desperate to be free from the clutches of the woods. He passed the last root that wormed in and out of the mix of sand and mud at the forest’s border, and let himself fall to the ground. How good it felt for those legs to no longer be dragging themselves over and around all the obstacles of the woodland. Each muscle tingled with relief, warmed by the hot sand below.
‘They call it Whitehaven,’ he heard Ivandell say. ‘White on account of the sands. A haven between the plains to the east, the woods to the south, and the darkness to the west.’
Edward lifted his face, now dusted with sand, and saw that the sand sloped to a turquoise bay. Whitehaven. The name made him think fondly of Dad. Whitehaven beach was a mix of muddy sand and pebbles, contained within the walls of a small harbour. In short, nothing like this place, and nothing like the place described to Dad by someone they’d met in the pub the day before.
As he stood up, however, his sense of calm dispersed. Ivandell and Elizabeth were standing on the shore watching the western horizon. He gulped, Ivandell’s lack of fear the only thing keeping him calm. ‘What is that?’
Some distance out, the turquoise waters of the bay and the bright blue of the sky disappeared abruptly into a wall of darkness, a sheer black that rose as far as he could see. To the south, he lost sight of it behind the trees of the Weary Woods. To the north, it was lost behind a rocky headland. An empty and apparently endless three-dimensional space.
‘It is the Great Black,’ replied Ivandell. ‘The domain of the Skylar. It is the end of our world, and the beginning of his. It surrounds us, in the north and in the south, the east and west. All who have entered have perished. It is the realm of the dead.’ He unlatched his crossbow from his leg, pulled off his shoes and ambled into the water. ‘I will see what I can find to eat. Then we must keep moving.’
Edward was transfixed by the vast expanse of black. It was like looking into the night sky, only starless and overwhelming in its proximity. He knew Dad and James must have meant for it to play some part in the game for it to consume so much space and for it to be so clearly visible. But what part? Perhaps they had meant to build some quest that involved entering the Great Black. But he didn’t have time to solve that question now. He had to seize the moment. Ivandell was out of earshot.
He moved to sit close to Elizabeth. ‘What’s going on? What was Hound talking about back there?’
She sat with an unfocused gaze as sand trickled through her open fingers, and for a moment he wasn’t sure she’d heard. She looked so vulnerable and alone. He wished somehow he could help. Find a way to make her stop hating herself. Before he knew what he was doing, his hand was reaching for hers. It seemed in slow motion, detached from his own body as if it had a mind of its own. He wanted to pull it back, but it was too late for that; any withdrawal would only add to the awkwardness.
His fingers wrapped around hers, anxious butterflies beating about his stomach. He saw her steal a glance towards their interlinked hands, and for a second he was certain she would wriggle her way free. But she didn’t even flinch. Her eyes closed, squeezing a tear down her cheeks. ‘I’m so sorry, Edward. I should have told you before. I should have told you everything.’
‘It’s okay, Elizabeth. You’re a secret agent, right?’ He tilted his head, hoping that she would see at least part of his smile. ‘I know you can’t tell me everything.’
She shook her head. ‘You don’t understand. We knew Vanderboom had been coming back and forth between Extropia and the real world for months. We knew he had the password.’
The word What? burst from his lungs and up his throat, but somehow he managed to prevent it from leaving his gaping mouth. How could he scream at her, her face so downhearted, after an episode that was entirely his fault?
‘We assume your father must have given it to him, just like you suggested.’
‘I don’t understand. If he knew the password, then why didn’t he just tell me? Why leave it to chance that I’d be able to work it out?’
‘Because if he’d given it to you, then he would have given it to us. He knew we were listening in that day. The only thing he couldn’t be sure of was whether, with the password in our possession, Oriel and I would enter. And if we did, then you wouldn’t have been able to. He did everything he could to get you in alone.’
‘But why?’
‘I really don’t know. But whatever Vanderboom is up to, I’ve a feeling we’ll find out soon enough.’
Edward sighed, frustrated that he’d ever allowed himself to believe a single word excreted from Vanderboom’s lips. ‘So if my father told Vanderboom the password, then it’s more than possible Vanderboom did jump like he was meant to and arrived here with James.’
Elizabeth shrugged. ‘I guess.’
Again, he imagined James arriving as he tried to piece together everything he knew about the night of the accident. ‘Vanderboom could have attacked James the second he arrived and headed straight for the Tartarus Stone. My father would have been forced to enter to help James.’
She listened, and then nodded in agreement. ‘Then somehow he evaded them and returned home, leaving them trapped.’
‘And leaving himself time to sabotage my father’s equipment and make it look like an accident.’
‘It’s all just as you claimed from the start, isn’t it?’ Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief. ‘Vanderboom shamelessly denied he knew the password, even when we told him we could see him going back and forth. But there was little we could do. Without catching him inside Extropia, we couldn’t prove anything. Besides, even if he was going back and forth, he wasn’t breaking any laws. All we knew was that he was working with a hacker called Marchosias – the man who drove the van outside your home – but we couldn’t get a grasp on what they were up to. Oriel thought him talking to you might at least give us a clue.’
‘And did he learn anything?’
‘Oriel thought not. But I did. I saw the look on Oriel’s face when you asked to be alone with your brother and father. I knew what he was thinking. He really was worried you might know the password. He really didn’t want anyone coming in here at all, even with James so badly wounded and begging for help. I can only hope that with us both inside, he’ll have to keep Extropia running indefinitely, or at least give us a good chance to get out.’
‘You mean, you forced your way in here, just like me?’
She smiled. ‘Guess my future as a secret agent isn’t looking too secure right now.’
‘What about all that stuff you said, that you had orders to keep me in the hut until reinforcements arrived?’
‘They weren’t orders as such.’ She smiled. ‘More like instructions I left for Oriel once he’d realised what I’d done.’
He squeezed her hand, and for a moment he was lost for words; how could he ever thank her enough for what she had done? ‘I… I don’t know what to say.’
She shrugged. ‘What was I supposed to do? My boss was waiting for an excuse to pull the plug, no matter who was still inside. That’s not the job I signed up for. He’s probably listening to us now.’ She glanced around the sky, as if Oriel were up there somewhere.
‘And that’s all there is to it? You risked everything just because it felt like the right thing to do?’
Her lips tightened as if deciding how to respond. ‘Well, the thing is, you and I aren’t so different.’
‘Elizabeth, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.’
‘No, it’s okay. You see, my mother died when I was just a baby, and my father died when I was seventeen.’
‘Oh,’ was all that Edward managed to say. She was an orphan, left stranded and alone in the world. And no doubt, like him, would have done anything to see her family again. ‘Thank you, Elizabeth, for everything,’ he said.
She blushed uncomfortably, and for a time they sat in silence, Edward looking into her eyes as she gazed at the sand between them.
At last, he said, ‘How did you end up being a secret agent? I mean, you’re only twenty or something, right?’
She laughed, and although he realised he might have said something stupid, it didn’t matter; he was pleased to hear her laugh again.
‘I’m nineteen. And I’m not a secret agent. You make me sound like a spy or something. We’re really just part of the national police force.’
‘But working on something like Extropia – loads of people must have wanted that job?’
‘No one wanted it. Oriel managed it largely on his own for months. After a while he had to approach a few people in secret for a surveillance job he wasn’t allowed to advertise. Everyone assumed it was a dead end. It’s not uncommon for these kinds of jobs to come up – the NCCU doesn’t like to broadcast who they’re watching. Eventually, someone suggested he talk to me. I was stuck in a job monitoring criminal chatter in cyberspace. Hours at a time would go by without me even needing to note anything down. When Oriel approached me I was willing to try anything. He made me sign a document saying I’d never speak about the job he wanted me for. When I found out I was to be monitoring Vanderboom, and what it was all about – virtual reality, the Richard Founder – I couldn’t believe my luck. Well, until now, that is.’
‘Listen, we’re going to get out of here, I know it,’ he said.
‘It’s okay, Edward. I know you don’t believe that.’
‘No, I do. Hound told me he’d found a way to escape without using the Tartarus Stone. That he’d made some kind of hack to replicate the Tartarus Portal. Maybe he can use it to help us get out of here.’
‘It hardly feels like he’s in the mood for helping us.’
‘I know,’ Edward conceded. Then, trying to stay upbeat, he added, ‘Maybe we don’t need his help. Look how far we’ve come already. And just look at us. I have magic powers.’ He smiled, the words magic powers still sounding silly somehow. ‘And I’ve seen how amazing you are with a bow. You stuck Hound right through his palm. I bet that’s where you were aiming, wasn’t it?’
‘It was,’ she replied. ‘Two shots out of two.’
‘It’s your powers, I’m sure of it. The powers of a ranger: sight, and accuracy with a bow.’
‘I guess you must be right. A ranger. I like the sound of that,’ she said, studying her hands. ‘So what about Hound? He was like a ghost out there. And his armour seemed impenetrable.’
‘Hasgard called it Armour of the Night, worn only by Dēofol’s commanders. Hound told me he stole it. Did you see, he had a dagger?’
‘And a sword.’
‘We both got powers from the first weapon we chose. I think he may have chosen the dagger first.’
‘So what character would that make him?’
‘A rogue, I think. He can sneak around, unheard, near-invisible. I guess the game just makes him harder to see somehow. And you saw how light those blades seemed in his hands.’
‘He was always good in a fight.’
‘Well, whoever he stole that armour from probably didn’t even see him coming.’ His shoulders tightened in a wave of guilt as he pictured Hound darting through the shadows, near-invincible. ‘We never should have left Hasgard like that.’ He shuddered, trying to shake a feeling that had no right to be there. Hasgard’s not real, he reminded himself, he’s nothing but binary.
‘I’m sure he’s fine,’ said Elizabeth. ‘He seems like he can handle himself pretty well. And besides, you were the one he wanted, not Hasgard. The moment he saw you were gone, he would have disengaged.’
His eyes lifted to meet hers, something about what she’d said sitting uneasily in his mind. ‘Am I the only one he’s after?’ He kept watching, hoping he was wrong, hoping he was just being paranoid. Quickly he realised it was a chance he wasn’t willing to risk. In a flash he was on his feet. He called for Ivandell to hurry back. There wasn’t time to eat. No time to rest.
‘What is it?’ asked Elizabeth, also on her feet now.
‘We have to go. We have to get to James!’ He threw his bag over his back, panic rising in his chest. As his legs propelled him north along the beach, not waiting for the others to be ready, Hound’s words were the only thing in his mind.
I cannot let you reach your brother, no matter what.
15
Bound in Black
In the short time that he’d been in the water, Ivandell had already managed to catch one fish, fat and over a foot long. And by the time he’d caught up with Edward, he’d scaled and gutted it.
The idea of eating made Edward feel sick. Partly because he was too hungry, but mostly because his anxiety was making it impossible to think about food. All the same, he forced down chunk after chunk as they hurried north along the beach.
Ahead, the rocky headland ran several hundred yards out to the west, long grass swaying in the wind and dotted with thorny bushes. At the tip of the headland, boulders dropped into the ocean to the spray of crashing waves. A short distance further on, the foaming water vanished into the Great Black. The wall of darkness rose high until at some point, the blue sky returned. A thin cloud appeared at the point where the sky met the Black, floating into the reality of Extropia as though it had somehow existed in the darkness but just not been visible.
They scaled the headland using only rocks for leverage. Dry shrubs somehow clung to life where dirt had gathered in the crevices between the grey and brown stone, but Ivandell warned them the roots were sure to be weak, perhaps only inches deep.
At the top, the headland tracked to their left. To their right, a chalky cliff fell to endless rolling green. Ahead, a wide, flat field led north. The long grass of the field was intermingled with ferns and spiky purple flowers that Edward recognised from walks in Cumbria. The land was overgrown and untracked; few people, if any, had been here for a very long time. And why would they have, he thought, with the field tied along its western edge to that ever-disconcerting wall of blackness?
He walked ahead of the other two, his hips moving unnaturally from side to side like he was walking for Olympic gold, despite the relentless burn in his legs and only a few hours’ sleep. He forced himself to stop so that he could study the path south for signs of Hound. Hound appeared everywhere through his telescope, in the hills to the east and in the trees to the south, black dots sprinkled across his vision, passing illusions in the waves of heat that drifted from the ground.
/> Ten or so miles to the north, four snow-capped mountains rose from nowhere to tower like guardians of whatever realm lay beyond. Any foothills were dwarfed by their sudden leap towards the sky. He’d already placed his bet as to what these peaks were called: Scafell, Helvellyn, Skiddaw, Scafell Pike, the latter being the place where his anger had crossed the point of no return into a land of solitude and regret. He looked away, barely noticing the roll of his eyes and the shake of his head. Every time he thought about what had happened there he felt ashamed. Was there nowhere in Extropia that wouldn’t try to drag him on an unwanted trip into the shadows of his past? For now though, all of that could remain buried in the back of his mind, for at the base of the nearest mountain, Ivandell had said, lay Hawkshead and James.
It seemed surreal that he might see James again in a matter of hours. A week ago he’d still believed him dead. He’d still been struggling to find a way to build a new life. Now he knew there couldn’t be one, not without Dad and James. To lose them once was hard enough, to lose them twice impossible.
It is life or death for me, he thought, and I am okay with that.
He decided to practise his magic. He needed to find a way to get over its crippling side effects. In a regular game, the more you used your magic, the deeper your reserves became. So would it become less and less punishing to use? He hoped so. He started with a leaf; a quick burst to lift it into the air and then let it drop back down of its own accord. The sickness rose quickly through his bowels. His focus blurred and he nearly lost his footing. He stumbled on, out of breath. Ahead, the others didn’t notice. He preferred it that way. It was hard enough without them watching or worrying over him.
And so he tried again and again, keeping to short bursts and leaving prolonged gaps between each spell. Each time the nausea was a little less than the time before.
Gradually, the field narrowed until they were forced to walk alarmingly close to the Great Black. From time to time explosions of lightning forked through the darkness. Some were so close and loud he had to cover his ears, some so far away they appeared little more than a scratch on vinyl.
